


Lullaby for an Anxious Child

by tiny_tuba



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Another Tiny_Tuba fic that has the main character Fall Asleep. How Original, Fluff, Hanschen Rilow is trans, M/M, Melchior is terrible and the worst but I honestly do not hate him. Honestly., Mild Angst, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:09:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8207032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_tuba/pseuds/tiny_tuba
Summary: "God, what's got Hans' panties in a twist?" he heard over his shoulder.





	1. Sarcastic Mr. Know-it-All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frobisheries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frobisheries/gifts).



> (title is from Sting's "If On a Winter's Night.." & Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Scar Tissue")
> 
> Transchen, or Trans Hanschen, is my personal favorite headcanon, because I love Hanschen & myself am very trans. Whenever I alter my voice to try to pass as masculine, I feel like I sound like the JBW Hanschen, giving birth to my trans headcanon

"I hate doing presentations in front of the entire lecture hall," whined Moritz, who was already stressed about needing to copy Georg's homework on the way to their history lecture.

"Just copy what Melchior does, all the professors love how he and Hans present." Georg passed Moritz his other worksheet.

"God, have you heard the way he talks in class? It's obnoxious!" cried Melchior.

"Who?" Moritz asked distractedly, bumping his shoulder against Ernst.

"What do you mean, who? Hans, of course.  _That posh, snobby voice_." Melchior stuck his nose in the air, his voice low in a parody of Hans Rilow's voice.

Ernst tried to speak up but was interrupted by Georg.

"Affect! It's the  _affect!_  God!" Here, Georg swept his arms out in a wide and dramatic gesture, shoving past Moritz as they all tramped through the math building's hall. Melchior laughed again, imitating the motion.

"Even the way he holds himself, yeah, it's ridiculous. Shoulders thrown back just so, feet planted this way, chest thrust forward- honestly, he can be so annoying to watch."

"He moves like a dancer." Ernst piped up, before pressing his fist back to his lips again. He didn't like the boys badmouthing Hanschen, especially not behind his back.

"Aren't all his sisters in ballet?" asked Moritz.

"Hey yeah, do you think  _little Hansi_  dresses up in a tutu and tights as well?" Georg roared with laughter, stumbling blindly around the corner-

-Right into Hans Rilow himself. Hans was shorter than the rest of the guys, but he managed to keep from stumbling over as they all gently collided into him. Ernst tried to smile but it was clear that Hans had heard too much of their conversation to be in a friendly mood. Still, he winked at Ernst.

"Good afternoon, Ernst." He said, in that steady and controlled voice. His head defiantly flicked up, before he saw Melchior track the haughty motion with a smirk, then turned away his face so he was staring at the ground. Quickly, too quickly, he turned on his heel.

Ernst had calculus with Hanschen next anyways, so he broke free of the crowd and followed.

"God, what's got Hans' panties in a twist?" he heard over his shoulder.

"Hanschen!" Ernst cried out, struggling to find the shorter boy in the mad midday scramble.

"Don't call me that out loud!" hissed Hanschen, appearing suddenly at Ernst's side, "It's so  _cutesy_!"

Ernst laughed, glad to see Hanschen back as his usual self. That nervous, self-conscious air about him was gone. Seeing Hanschen like that had twisted his stomach. Ernst bumped his shoulder against Hanschen's.

"Cutesy? You're pretty cute, I guess."

"I'm  _handsome_. I'm not  _cute_. Men are handsome. Kittens are cute." Hanschen sniffed dramatically, but he was smiling.

"Oh yeah, Mister I'm-like-a-" Before he could finish, Hanschen shoved Ernst.

"Oh my god, Ernst! That was one time!"

"Hanschen, that literally happened last week."

"Hmm." Hanschen hummed in lieu of a response, distractedly bringing his fingers to his lips.

They walked into their calculus lecture with the tips of their fingers touching.

 

* * *

 

Hanschen groaned, arms spreading and taking up far more room than his small frame required. He ignored the grumbles of the people behind him in line at the cafeteria line.

"God, I'm gonna kick that midterm's ass," he began swinging his arms around and rolling his shoulders. He always stretched after a long class, which Ernst thought was cute. When Hanschen lifted his arms above his head, his whole body extending skywards, Ernst could spot a peek of Hanschen's white undershirt.

"Did you ever dance?" Hanschen side-eyed Ernst at the question.

"Is this about what that asshole Gabor was all smug about earlier? I heard a comment about tutus." Hanschen smoothed out his shirt and cardigan, hands stilling momentarily over his chest.

"No, well, kinda, I don't know. You're just really… graceful. Really in tune with your body, or something."

Hanschen rolled his eyes at that last bit, before grinned widely, hands sweeping to his hips. "You want me to put on a leotard and get in tune with  _your_  body?" Hanschen cocked a hip.

Ernst stumbled, hands desperately grabbing for his flying milk carton, Hanschen already saving his pizza slice from landing on the pavement.

"God, I love you." Hanschen hummed in agreement, seemingly coy. Ernst could tell he liked hearing him say it though.

 _I love you_. He's said it so many times, even before they started dating, but Hanschen still looks so happy every time he says it that Ernst never stops the words from falling from his lips.

They sat on the grass by the music building to eat, chatted about nothing of consequence, ate lunch and just generally made doe eyes at each other. It was sunny, it was warm, it was easy and lovely. So Ernst could tell when Hanschen became worried.

His eyes darted away, and trying too hard to be nonchalant. Hanschen asked,

"So what was Melchior talking about earlier?" His was voice higher, tired. He was nervous. It made Ernst feel sick, seeing someone who worked so hard on being confident brought down with someone as oblivious as Melchior.

"He doesn't know, I don’t think. Otherwise he would've known better. He's just being stupid." Ernst's reply calmed Hanschen somewhat.

"That’s to be expected. Melchior's always being stupid."

"You look really handsome today, by the way." Ernst pressed his words into Hanschen's neck with a gentle kiss.

Hanschen blushed into his fruit cup, "Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear Ernst." Ernst hoped so.

"So,  _Handsome_ , you want to come over tonight? I'm done with most of my assignments."

Hanschen smiled dreamily, "That'd be nice. Want me to make dinner?"

"That would be really, really nice, yeah.  Ah, Moritz is spending the night at Georg's if you want to, um, spend the night."

"You want me to spend the night?"

A beat of silence. Then another. Hanschen had a small, sweet smile.

"You don’t have to but, ah, yeah. I've even got one of those memory foam pillows you like."

"Memory foam-? Ernst Robel, you sly dog. Of course I'll spend the night." Hanschen leaned over to press his widening smile to Ernst's.

 

* * *

 

"So you  _did_  do dance."

"Yeah, I was pretty good. For a kid." Hanschen, for once, downplayed his accomplishments. He was the only dancer in the photo in pointe shoes.

"Your hair!" Ernst laughed, peering closer at the beaming image of fourteen-year old Hanschen in his hands.

"Oh god, don't remind me. I had those blunt bangs until junior year of high school. Melitta use to say I looked like part of the Brady Bunch."

"Thanks for showing me these photos. It's gotta be weird seeing…" Ernst trailed off, unsure.

"Me with braces?" Hanschen laughed. He honestly didn't mind showing Ernst these old pictures; he trusted Ernst completely.

"Yeah. Hey, you need help making dinner?"

"Ernst, you wrote four essays this week. Lay on the couch. Relax." Hanschen shimmied out of his boyfriend's arms and sauntered to the kitchenette. Ernst sighed, watching him from over the back of the couch.

"What?" Hanschen had already tied on his apron.

"I love you."

Hanschen walked back to the living room and kissed Ernst.

"I love you too." He turned to go back to making dinner, but hesitated. He turned back to Ernst, eyes serious.

"Thank you for making me feel better about what happened earlier, Ernst. I... I don't know why I let Melchior's stupid comment get under my skin." He looked down for a moment, a flicker of that earlier nervousness coming back. Hanschen had worked hard on building his confidence with himself, and sometimes (most of the times) that came off as arrogance. Ernst knew how vulnerable Hanschen was when their other friends couldn't see him. When he let all his hard edges and angles soften into something else completely.

"Hey. He doesn't matter. He's just some guy. Your emotions, what you're feeling right now, that's important. You don't have to dismiss them. It's gonna be okay." Ernst reached forward to hug him, but Hanschen was already wrapping his arms around Ernst's shoulders, lifting him half off of the couch.

"Ernst Robel you absolute angel. I love you so much." He pressed his face into Ernst's hair, eyes threatening to spill over with tears.

Still, he pulled back, smiling. He kissed Ernst, resolutely.

"Now let me go or I can't make dinner."

"Is it hot dogs?"

" _Get out of my house._ "

 

* * *

 

 

After a leisurely dinner of decidedly-not-hot-dog pork chops & roasted green beans, Hanschen and Ernst lay on Ernst's bed, the latter absentmindedly scrolling through Netflix on his tablet. Hanschen was pressed against his side, his ear resting above Ernst's heart.

"Hanschen, you wanna watch _Princess Bride_?"

"Hmmm."

" _Mean Girls_?"

"Hmm."

"You wanna make out?"

"Hm."

"You want to go to sleep, don't you?"

There was no response.

Ernst leaned away a bit, tucking his tablet safely on the nightstand. When he looked down, Hanschen had indeed dozed off. The collar of the shirt he had borrowed from Ernst for pajamas had slipped over his shoulder, his mouth had gone slack. Ernst gently, gently, eased out from under Hanschen, tiptoeing around his room for another blanket. He settled back under the covers, where Hanschen immediately curled around him again. Ernst pressed a kiss to the bit of forehead he could reach, whispering _good night_. 


	2. All in All (I'm Loving Every Rise and Fall)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was strange to see himself like that, strange to see someone else in his skin. It was hard to describe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Red Hot Chili Pepper's "Tear"
> 
> Plot from this:  
> "Epilogue I Decided Would Be Kind of Weird To Actually Write:
> 
> "You don't have to out yourself to Melchior, you know."  
> "He's always talking about how he wants more experiences to learn from."  
> "Hanschen-"  
> "Imagine how much he'll learn when I throw my packer right in his face!"  
> "Hanschen, no!"  
> "H A N S C H E N Y E S""
> 
> queerjemmy Tue 04 Oct 2016 05:19PM PDT
> 
> i want that extra scene so bad holy shiiiiiiiiiiit
> 
>  
> 
> tiny_tuba Tue 04 Oct 2016 07:02PM PDT
> 
> maybe I'll actually write it haha!!
> 
> tiny_tuba Wed 05 Oct 2016 11:04PM PDT
> 
> holy shit. i'm gonna write it. for u. hanschen pov, packer flying. #soon

Hans sloppily shoved his work into his backpack, impatient for the day to be over. He only had calculus left, then he could spend his weekend with his boyfriend. Boyfriend! The word felt new and shiny in his mind. Everyone thought he was smooth, suave, slick. He had had a few lines prepared when he had met up with Ernst, but none of it felt right. He still wasn't entirely sure what he said that had made Ernst kiss him back, but he was grateful.

The pre-recorded chime of bells rang, signaling that it was eleven o'clock. Maybe he'd run into Ernst on his way to their lecture.

Instead, he collided into Melchior Gabor & Co.

"Hey yeah, do you think  _little Hansi_  dresses up in a tutu and tights as well?"

Hanschen's breath caught in his throat, as if his lungs weren't restricted enough already.

_They knew. They knew and they were making fun of him._

He. He didn't know what to say. His eyes shot to Ernst, who looked as scared as he felt. He couldn't let him know. He took a breath, willing his limbs to fall into some sort of nonchalant posture. He winked at Ernst: _I'm cool, I'm collected_.

"Good afternoon, Ernst." He took extra care to keep his voice from cracking, tried to keep it low and even. He even stretched his neck to seem taller, but Melchior smirked at him.

_He knows. He's making fun of me._

He deflated a bit, turning his face away so none of the other guys would see. Finally, he just let the rest of his body follow the motion, an about face, a retreat.

"God, what's got Hans' panties in a twist?" he heard over his shoulder.

"Hanschen!" Thank god, that was Ernst.

"Don't call me that out loud!" hissed Hanschen, finally getting Ernst by himself, "It's so  _cutesy_!"

Ernst laughed, bumping his shoulder against Hanschen's. Hanschen let go of a little of whatever tension he had been holding.

"Cutesy? You're pretty cute, I guess."

"I'm  _handsome_. I'm not  _cute_. Men are handsome. Kittens are cute." Hanschen felt himself smile. He didn't mind being called cute, but it was fun to be fussy.

"Oh yeah, Mister I'm-like-a-" Before he could finish, Hanschen shoved Ernst. They both were laughing. _Melchior who?_

"Oh my god, Ernst! That was one time!" That afternoon had been one of the loveliest Hanschen had known, but it was absolutely mortifying to remember half the things he had babbled. _Milk? Milk?!_

"Hanschen, that literally happened last week."

"Hmm." Hanschen hummed in lieu of a response, distractedly bringing his fingers to his lips. Ernst had been so enthusiastic that Hanschen could practically feel him afterwards, a buzzing, thrumming energy, tingling on his lips well into the evening.

 

* * *

 

 

Just an hour sitting slumped over L'Hopital's Rule had Hanschen's back sore. After four hours in his binder, his ribs were starting to feel uncomfortable, too.

Hanschen groaned, pitching it a bit higher than needed. Ernst didn't notice.

"God, I'm gonna kick that midterm's ass," he wasn't particularly worried about this class, or his grades in general, really. He had made Dean's List every quarter. Ernst wasn't doing so great though, so he pretended to be concerned with studying so Ernst wouldn't be embarrassed.

It was important to stretch when you bind, but Hanschen also wanted Ernst to pay attention to him. He stre-e-e-e-tched his arms above his head, his whole body going taut. He could see Ernst peek at the hem of his jeans where his binder was securely tucked.

"Did you ever dance?"

Hanschen suddenly remembered all those hours in the studio, limbs elongated just like how he was right there. He lowered his arms slowly, cautiously.

"Is this about what that asshole Gabor was all smug about earlier? I heard a comment about tutus." Hanschen smoothed out his shirt and cardigan, in case his binder had rolled up. His hands stilled momentarily over his chest- was he flat enough?

"No, well, kinda, I don't know. You're just really… graceful. Really in tune with your body, or something."

_In tune with his body_. Hanschen rolled his eyes at that. Ernst hadn't realized that what he said was funny, so he decided to subtly distract him.

"You want me to put on a leotard and get in tune with  _your_  body?"

Ernst had absolutely not been expecting that, as he managed to throw every item of food on his tray in a different direction as he squawked. Hanschen snagged his slice of pepperoni pizza as the bruised apple rolled into a gutter.

"God, I love you."

Hanschen beamed.

They ate for a while, enjoying the nice weather and each other's company. Still, his earlier encounter with Ernst's other friends kept needling the back of his mind.

"So what was Melchior talking about earlier?" He didn't have the energy to try to keep his voice low. His voice hadn't changed as much as he wanted, so trying to sound masculine was a constant effort. He was nervous. Hearing his own high voice didn't help.

"He doesn't know, I don’t think. Otherwise he would've known better. He's just being stupid." Ernst gave a sympathetic look, and he again felt himself let go of anxious tension.

"That’s to be expected. Melchior's always being stupid."

"You look really handsome today, by the way." He felt like he was always vigilant about how he presented, no matter how much Ernst reassured him. It helped a lot, maybe more than Ernst knew, but Hanschen suspected he'd always be wary of if he passed. But right now he had needed that, being called _handsome_ , being treated gently.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear Ernst."

"So,  _Handsome_ , you want to come over tonight? I'm done with most of my assignments."

There it was again, _handsome, handsome, handsome_. Ernst was playing him better than Georg could play the piano.

 "That'd be nice." 

 

* * *

 

 

Hanschen had kept all his ballet photos from over the years in an album. He had felt a little silly taking it with him to Ernst's apartment, but it was worth it for the look on his boyfriend's face.

"So you  _did_  do dance." Ernst sounded a little awed.

"Yeah, I was pretty good. For a kid." Hanschen waited to see what Ernst would focus on.

"Your hair!" Ernst laughed. He pointed at the picture, as if Hanschen didn't remember. He looked down at young Hanschen, eyes soft.

"Oh god, don't remind me. I had those blunt bangs until junior year of high school. Melitta used to say I looked like part of the Brady Bunch."

"Thanks for showing me these photos. It's gotta be weird seeing…" Ernst trailed off-

_Seeing yourself when you were a girl._

"Me with braces?" Hanschen laughed. He trusted Ernst with these photos. When Ernst glanced back at the picture, he looked down too, skimming over the hips, the chest, the hair. It was strange to see himself like that, strange to see someone else in his skin. It was hard to describe.

"Yeah. Hey, you need help making dinner?" Hanschen was grateful for the change in topic, even if he wasn't necessarily uncomfortable.

"Ernst, you wrote four essays this week. Lay on the couch. Relax." Hanschen sauntered to the kitchenette, half remembered dance steps floating at the edges of his mind.

Ernst sighed, his face peeking from over the back of the couch. It was pretty cute.

"What?" He tried to sound annoyed, but it came out as endeared. His cynical façade never really stood up around Ernst.

"I love you."

Hanschen felt his heart well up. Ernst constantly said that, _I love you_ , like it was easy. Like loving Hanschen was easy. He knew he could be a prickly, anxious mess. Still, Ernst stayed. He had loved him even when they were only friends, because Ernst doesn't know how to do things by halves. His heart loves deeply.

Hanschen kissed Ernst, "I love you too."

He tried to turn to go back, but hesitated. He looked to Ernst, eyes serious. Emotion as honest as this needed to be reciprocated.

"Thank you for making me feel better about what happened earlier, Ernst. I... I don't know why I let Melchior's stupid comment get under my skin." He looked away, still having difficulties being forthcoming with his own emotions. He could feel something beginning to broil under his skin, threatening to ruin everything.

"Hey. He doesn't matter. He's just some guy. Your emotions, what you're feeling right now, that's important. You don't have to dismiss them. It's gonna be okay." Ernst reached forward, but Hanschen had taken the first step.

"Ernst Robel you absolute angel. I love you so much." The words came out both fierce and muffled, as he had pressed his face into Ernst's hair.

Again, he kissed Ernst. _How did I ever get so lucky?_

"Now let me go or I can't make dinner."

"Is it hot dogs?"

" _Get out of my house._ "

"This isn't your house! This is my apartment!"

"I'm not going to make you hot dogs every time I come over!"

Ernst scrunched up his nose, enjoying his turn to be fussy. Hanschen couldn't resist.

"I'm going to make you real food, and then we're going to make out, and then we're gonna study for calculus." He kissed Ernst between every other word, aiming for the sensitive spot under his jaw when he mentioned studying. It almost worked.

"Hanschen, please, it's Friday! No studying." Ernst tried to sound upset, but his hands were gently squeezing Hanschen's shoulders.

"Alright, alright. Green beans, kissing, what- Netflix? You wanna watch a movie?"

 

* * *

 

 

Hanschen remembered laying his head on Ernst's chest sometime after dinner, but the steady beat had lulled him to sleep. It was like some romance novel, honestly. Less like a romance novel was the two of them studying for calculus. There was whining, kissing, complaining, and what was probably an incorrect way of using a TI-84 calculator. Still, by the end of the weekend, Hanschen felt like Ernst was ready for the midterm. He felt really good as Ernst walked him back to his own apartment.

"Is that Melchior?" Hanschen felt a small twinge of anxiety somewhere behind his breastbone.

"We can cross the street," Ernst suggested, as if that was even an option.

"No, no. I'm gonna face this head-on. I'm gonna-" Hanschen waved his hands vaguely in front of himself. His expression was resolute. Ernst seemed to catch onto his meaning.

"You don't have to out yourself to Melchior, you know."

"I'm not going to lecture him. I won't waste words."

"I don't understand."

"He's always talking about how he wants more experiences to learn from." Hanschen set his feet shoulder width apart and unbuckled his belt.

"Hanschen-" Ernst looked like he was beginning to understand, whipping his head around to look at Melchi, a mere fifty feet up the sidewalk. 

"Imagine how much he'll learn when I throw my packer right in his face!"

" ** _Hanschen, no!_** "

But alas, it was too late.

Ernst looked on in abject horror as five inches of warm rubber wiggled ungracefully through the air in some sort of grotesque arc, bouncing off of a stunned Melchior Gabor's face.

Hanschen was absolutely beaming.

"WAS THAT A DILDO?"

"That was my penis, Gabor. Give it back."

"I'M NOT TOUCHING THAT."

Melchior's face was turning a deep red, and his eyes were bulging.

"I thought you read about this in your 'sexualities lectures,' Melchior."

Ernst could see that Hanschen was enjoying himself immensely. It felt entirely surreal. The entire experience was like some sort of dream. Was it in real life that his boyfriend threw a packer at Melchior Gabor's face? Was he awake or asleep when Hanschen did a little dance in front of Melchior as he retrieved said packer?

Hanschen squeezed Ernst's hand, leading him away. Melchior had started to understand, and was trying to apologize profusely- Hanschen mostly ignored him.

"Can you put this in your satchel? I don't feel like shoving it back in my pants after it hit the sidewalk."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Ernst. Now please put my penis in your bag."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every trans person's experiences are different and valid! this is based off of my own experiences, so if some of the language seems weird (ex: "seeing yourself when you were a girl") it's just how i think of things
> 
> p.s. i like a lot of the lines i wrote in this, but what can compare to "That was my penis, Gabor. Give it back." ???

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue I Decided Would Be Kind of Weird To Actually Write:
> 
> "You don't have to out yourself to Melchior, you know."  
> "He's always talking about how he wants more experiences to learn from."  
> "Hanschen-"  
> "Imagine how much he'll learn when I throw my packer right in his face!"  
> "Hanschen, no!"  
> "H A N S C H E N Y E S"


End file.
